


Night and Day and Night, Again

by yuletide_archivist



Category: E.R.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-20
Updated: 2003-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1631207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's three nights before Christmas, snow is almost falling, and not everyone is looking forward to the holiday. (Susan/Abby)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night and Day and Night, Again

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Amatia

 

 

 

 

* * *

  


I'm momentarily disoriented after I open my eyes, before I recognize the dark on call room. It's 2:12am. Well, 15 minutes of sleep is better than no sleep. Shuffling around I get my feet on the floor and look over my coat sadly. There really isn't any way to disguise that fact that I slept in it during my break. Should have taken it off. I poke my head out the door, and marvel at the fact that the hallways are almost empty. A nurse walking briskly past me and disappearing into a storage room a few doors down. Two orderlies talking at a corner and a middle-aged woman waiting patiently outside an exam room. Three nights before Christmas and we're not swamped. It's almost too... I quickly banish the thought, and throw a superstitious look at the ceiling, with the odd sensation that my thoughts might call it down over my head, before I catch myself. 

I walk down towards the admit desk, stepping around some of the cleaning staff who are taking advantage of the lull to do obscure chores such as dusting shelves and polishing shiny surfaces. The sound of a baby crying penetrates the walls from somewhere close-by and effectively clears my head of the remaining cobwebs. 

Chairs aren't even half full. A small boy is fussing by the side of a young man; an older brother or the father, an elderly man is sleeping in the back, a young woman with hair the colours of the rainbow and a bored look is cradling her left wrist where her cast has cracked, and three older women are chattering excitedly off to one side. 

I'm on my way past them when Frank appears in front of me, perpetual scowl in place, thrusting a chart into my hands. 

"Hey, Dr. Lewis, can you take this? If that kid comes over here one more time to poke at the charts, there's gonna be casualties." 

Well, that's what I'm here for, isn't it. I walk over to the boy and the man; who's older that I thought at first. "Hi, I'm Dr. Lewis, what seems to be the problem?" I ask, smiling at the boy who's peeking out behind the older man's jacket. 

The man rises, carrying the boy on his hip. "This is my nephew, Jem. Jeremiah." He shuffles his feet a little and looks at the boy who's clinging to his neck, peering at me with large dark eyes. "He's staying with us for Christmas, and woke us up tonight. His fever's really high, and, uh... We know he had pneumonia in November, and he catches colds real easy... we were... worried." 

"You did the right thing." I say. "Why don't you come with me and we'll have a look."   
 

* * *

  


That's how the night continues. Patients don't have life-threatening illnesses, and they are grateful and well behaved, co-workers mind their own business, but are mild-mannered and calm. The only discrepancy is Abby's scowling face; it seems darker every time I pass her in the hallways.   
 

* * *

  


I finally catch up with her outside around five thirty. She's smoking and kicking at the sleet that's gathered along the wall. 

"Hey, Abby." 

"Susan." She acknowledges me with a nod. 

"Are you ok?" 

"Fine. Just perfect." 

"You sure?" 

She draws in smoke deeply, closing her eyes for a moment before she sighs and releases it. "Just said so, didn't I?" She looks up at me from under messy bangs, and there's resistance in her eyes, but apparently there's something in my face because suddenly she stops fighting it and leans back against the wall. She's in the shadow but I can see her eyes glistening. I take a step closer, glad that she allows my hand on her shoulder. 

"Abby, what's wrong?" 

"Nothing." She lets her head fall back against the concrete wall as she once again blows out smoke. "Everything." 

"If there's..." 

"I don't want to talk about it." 

I nod. "Okay." Moving around I lean against the wall next to her. 

Silently, we stand there, shoulder to shoulder. She finishes her cigarette, but doesn't light up a new one. The sky is heavily overcast, and the air is thick and damp, but it's not raining. It's cold, though; just on the verge of freezing, and it bites my cheeks and nose with every breath. I shiver a little and push my hands deeper into the pockets of my coat. 

Abby eventually straightens and draws a deep breath. She shuffles her feet a few times before looking at me. 

"Thank you, Susan." 

I smile at her. "You're welcome." The light catches her hair and her eyes when she smiles back. 

She disappears inside as I remain; closing my eyes at the world for a few minutes more.   
 

* * *

  


When I leave the ER several hours later it's raining. I'm soaked before I reach the EL, and when I get home, I shower and fall asleep on my bed still wrapped in my robe.   
 

* * *

  


When I wake up it's dark outside, and still raining. I'm damp and cold, and the pillow is wet from my hair that I forgot to dry. After a blessed long hot shower and the warm rushes of air from the blow dryer I feel better. Chinese take-out and a movie on cable later I'm ready to go to work. I worked last night, and I'm working a double on Christmas Eve; the only way I could get Christmas Day off. Late and running into Abby in the ambulance bay, she tells me she's working the last three nights for the same reason. I talk to her three minutes too long and Weaver throws me a pointed look when I pass her on my way into the lounge. She told me weeks ago that she would pull some extra ER-shift right before Christmas to get the entire weekend off and halfway to New Year's. I think she's going away somewhere, but she wouldn't say.   
 

* * *

  


The night is an endless stream of patients. Drunk people who slipped on ice, a young woman who left her candles burning and the curtains caught fire, and elderly man who woke up with severe chest pains. Just enough to keep me working the entire time.   
 

* * *

  


At 5:00am I finally drag Abby a few blocks away from the hospital for breakfast. She claims she's not hungry but I threaten to bring something back and force-feed her and she gives in. Once we're there she practically inhales a burger with fries. I poke at my salad, chew each bite slowly. 

"I don't like Christmas." Abby suddenly blurts out. 

I'm chewing so I can't answer. 

"I have Christmas Day off this year, and nothing to do. No one to buy gifts for. No one to spend it with. I don't even have a Christmas tree." 

She's viciously ripping her napkin into shreds. 

I mailed all my gifts last week. And I'm spending Christmas alone as well. But I'm looking forward to it. I have a little tree, and a turkey, and a stack of books. 

"Hey... hey?" I finally get her attention. 

"Yes?" She's gathering her shreds in a tidy pile. 

I reach over and place my hand over hers. She looks at it like she isn't certain what it is, or why it's there. After a while she glares at me a little. "Don't try to `save' me..." 

I laugh. She's adorable. "I'm not," I tell her. "I'm just buying you breakfast." 

She reaches over and snags a piece of lettuce from my salad. I swat at her hand but she's laughing and I'm not really trying.   
 

* * *

  


She walks so close to me on our way back to County that our shoulders bump into each other every once in a while. It's cold and dry, and the clear sky is beginning to show a dull grey in the east. It's going to be a gorgeous day. I'll be working my last double shift before Christmas through it, and Abby will be sleeping through it. She's working tonight instead. 

Abby's fingers are suddenly warm on my forearm where she wraps them after a close call with a patch of ice left where there were puddles yesterday. I pull my arm back so her fingers slip down and I can tangle them in my own. Wordlessly we make our way the last few blocks. We arrive back in the ambulance bay right on time to meet an ambulance; multiple MVA, more on their way. We split up, and even as my mind focuses on my patient; the driver of the first car, 32-year-old black male with head lacerations, a broken wrist, probably several broken ribs and possibly internal bleeding, my hand feels bereft where she held it, and the chill of the morning air feels all the more harsh. But I push the thoughts away and reach over to grab a hold alongside the two paramedics. 

"On three! One, two..."   
 

* * *

  


Pratt and I work for what feels like hours on a small girl who wasn't buckled up properly and was thrown out the windshield and into a stone building when the car skidded on ice, trying to avoid crashing into the pileup, and ran into a water post, but we lose her to brain damage and internal bleeding. Her parents and two older brothers got away with whiplash and bruises.   
 

* * *

  


I'm outside trying to catch my breath and get myself under control again when Abby finds me. I have no idea how long I've been out there, but my fingertips are white, and I'm freezing. 

"You ok, Dr. Lewis?" 

I smile at her, but I suspect it's a little watery. "Yeah, Abby, thanks." I draw a breath and collect myself. "The kids are always the worst. You off?" I notice her coat and bag. 

"Yeah," she sighs. 

I yawn suddenly and look up at the skies; they're heavy with snow. Clouds have come in over the city while I've been working, and my gorgeous day has vanished up into them. "I'm on until 5. But after that I've got 48 hours off." 

We stand silent for a minute. Abby keeps looking toward the EL-station, but she stays. 

"Susan," she abruptly blurts out. I turn to look at her, but she's staring up into the sky. "I'm about to do something incredibly inappropriate," she tells me as she turns to face me. Her eyes are bright and the look in them determined. I'm not comprehending. 

She moves in closer and I stand rooted to the ground, noticing how her breath is coming in shallow gasps, how her hand is just barely trembling when she places it against the side of my face. Her fingers are cold but her palm is warm, burning against my chilled cheek. I stare at her red lips, shivering when the tip of her tongue flicks out and across her bottom lip. And then her lips are warm and wet against mine for the barest of moments before she pulls back. 

She's blushing and radiant and embarrassed at the same time. "Merry Christmas," she whispers, and there's a small smile on her lips, and then she's moving away, briskly walking toward the EL-station. 

I stare after her. She's... What did... She just kissed me. Oh my god. Abby just kissed me... Why would... When... I could easily... and then suddenly my feet are moving, slipping against the pavement. 

I catch up with Abby halfway to the EL-station. She turns around and looks at me and I think about kissing her again, but I don't. 

"I'll have dinner ready by 7pm, but why don't you come over when you wake up?" 

She smiles and nods, but then her train starts comes in and she starts running towards it. My stack of books will probably stay closed, but suddenly I don't mind anymore.   
 

* * *

  


The End 

 


End file.
